


Pineapple Smells

by Wolfy_P_Smith



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Compulsive Sniffing, Derek Don't Like Em Pineapple Smells, Derek May or May Not Murder Someone, Fluff, Is this enough tags?, Lots of Sniffing Going On, M/M, Malia Bashing, Minor Marking of the Territory, Minor Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, She Had It Coming, Stiles is Bad at Confrontation, Translation: Malia Pees on People, Wild Beast Animal Things, i think so, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfy_P_Smith/pseuds/Wolfy_P_Smith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale is in love with the autumn aroma given off by Stiles.  He'll do anything to get to that fresh-smelling kid.  Or at least, that's what he'd like to think.</p><p>Meanwhile, Stiles is a pushover stuck in a relationship with a neurotic beast who gives no regard to manners or being human.  And he really, really sucks at confrontation.  Which is exactly why he gets Derek involved...  For better or worse.</p><p>***Extreme Malia Bashing- You've Been Warned***</p><p>***Extreme Character Stupidity That's Entirely Intended- You've Been Warned***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allyoop_1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop_1/gifts).



Derek never really liked the smell of pineapple.  
  
Maybe it was his exceptionally perceptive wolf nostrils that despised any pineapple smell, or the fact that that dimwitted Jackson always reeked of its fruity sensations. He didn’t know. But the fact was, the apple of pines was repulsive in all ways imaginable.  
  
However, he did quite enjoy the countryside smell of autumn. Of bristling leaves and crunchy twigs. Of chilled wind tangling itself in the barren branches of desolate trees. Yeah… those aromas he could get used to, easily.  
  
Which is why that high school kid didn’t entirely exasperate him. Stiles had the scent of Autumn herself, which thrilled him in a way he couldn’t explain. He wanted to ensnare the boy in his arms forever and sniff with his keen wolf senses. Sure, most would consider that a rather… _eccentric_ fantasy, but then again, most weren’t werewolves like he was.  
  
Of course, he didn’t allow even a hint of his feelings to show through to the common folk. Especially not Scott. That man would never understand his need to be with his best friend. Mainly because for one, Derek was a bit older than the kid, and second, Stiles was already with someone else. That someone being… a girl.  
  
Her name was Malia. Just the thought of the oblivious girl made Derek want to hurl up his very insides. If Jackson was the smell of a ripe, fresh pineapple, she would be the forgotten pineapple. Rotted, pungent whiffs of perished fruits. And blood. The sickening, nauseous smell of gore and decomposed organs blanketed her like a zombie. For real, did the girl eat rotten food and bodies or something? Nothing coming from the wild coyote would surprise Derek.  
  
So what did the sweet smelling Stiles see in her and her foul aroma?  
  
The devastating fact was that even if Stiles and Malia went their separate ways, Derek couldn’t have him, because he wasn’t even sure he was gay or even bisexual. The whole situation advocated doom and a lack of hope. They would never be.  
  
What made it even worse was that Malia was his freaking cousin.  
  
So clueless, so aggravating, so _ugh_. Her utter coyoteness made her so naïve it hurt. She was unaware of the ways of being human, and it showed. When she didn’t get exactly her way, she wouldn’t hesitate to scratch and claw at the person preventing things from going her way. When she wanted to mark an object—or person—as her territory, she’d pull down her pants right then and there and pee on them. Yes, _pee_ on them. The worst of them all, she was completely blind to the idea that family members shouldn’t be mates and was constantly trying to win over himself and even her own father, Peter.  
  
Derek hated her more than pineapple smells. He hated her so much he wanted to kill her. And he so would, if not for Stiles. But alas, the boy would hate him forever if he even suggested such a thing, and he’d hate the world if he anonymously killed her, so he made the decision not to.

***

Stiles and Scott sat down with their crew in the cafeteria, each carrying a tray of some sort of lunch-lady-made delicacy. Around the table sat Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Allison, Lydia, Malia, Danny, and Jackson.  
  
“Hey, Scott!” everyone greeted in unison.  
  
“Oh, hey guys!” Stiles spat out, masquerading cheerfulness. “Nice to see you too!”  
  
“Oh, sorry, Stiles,” Allison said with sincerity. “Didn’t see you there.”  
  
“They never do,” he mumbled in response, shoveling some slimy canned pineapple in his mouth to preoccupy him. Geez, did he hate pineapple.  
  
“Hey, Jared!” Jackson shouted across the entire cafeteria. Everyone’s attention was now on him and Jared, who was passionately licking an ice-cream cone. “Don’t you think you should lay off the ol’ creamer for a bit? Might not make the lacrosse team again if ya don’t slow down, y’know?”  
  
People began to stifle laughter, and Jared’s face filled with hurt.  
  
“Because you’re fat!” Jackson added. The room erupted in hysteria. Jackson high-fived Danny stupidly.  
  
“Hey, lay off, Jackson,” Isaac scolded. “Why would you even say that?”  
  
“Because he’s fat!” yelled Jackson again.  
  
Erica laughed. Isaac and Allison gave her a disapproving glance.  
  
“What?” she asked innocently. “It’s funny!”  
  
Boyd got up and left the table without saying anything. Erica followed quickly behind her boyfriend.  
  
“Jackson, you are such a douche bag,” Stiles murmured.  
  
“Yeah, what Stiles said,” Malia agreed. She always agreed with him, which filled him with joy, yet slight annoyance.  
  
“Oh, whatever,” Danny said. “You all think it’s hilarious; you’re just too nice to admit it.”  
  
Isaac rolled his eyes at this, saying, “No, we just don’t find making fun of people’s weight amusing.”  
  
“Why not?” Jackson huffed. “It’s the best feeling ever! You’d have to try it to understand…”  
  
“I’m gonna see what Kira is up to,” Scott announced suddenly. “She’s sitting by herself again today.”  
  
Stiles looked over to where Kira sat bleakly alone. “Oh, no wonder,” he stated pragmatically. “She brought Korean food again today.”  
  
Jackson laughed while Scott gave him the death glare. “Goodbye,” he stated finally, getting up and making his way to Kira.  
  
“Finally,” Allison sighed. “Now I don’t have to feel totally awkward about showing affection towards you,” she whispered, taking Isaac’s hand.  
  
“I don’t like suppressing it in front of Scott, Alli,” he responded.  
  
“Too bad.”  
  
An awkward silence engulfed their table, in which everyone stared at their food and tried not to acknowledge the total discomfort.  
  
“I have to pee,” blurted out Malia, ending the utter stillness of the conversation. With that comment, she stood up, pulled down her jeans, and peed on the table— and its people —next to them.  
  
“Oh my God, she’s _peeing_ on me!” a boy with a nasally voice proclaimed.  
  
“Malia!” Stiles bellowed. “What the what? You can’t just pee on people!”  
  
“Really?” she asked with a puzzled look on her face, still peeing.  
  
“Really!” He pulled her up, embarrassment striking his face beat red.  
  
“I don’t see why there’s a problem,” she muttered.  
  
Sometimes, Stiles really hated Malia… Okay, to be fair, most of the time. Her complete lack of social skills and common sense was going to be the death of him. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. Better yet, he didn’t know why he was still dating her. He didn’t even like girls that much. Boys were better… _everythings_. But alas, he was with Malia, so he’d have to deal with her and her pettiness.  
  
Jackson and Danny snorted from laughing so hard. “You need to keep that wild coyote in a cage or something,” Jackson divulged without really thinking.  
  
Malia, with a baffled look strung across her face, asked, “You want to try and cage me?”  
  
Jackson just snickered some more, not responding to her question.  
  
“Malia Tate, I’m gonna need you to come with me,” a teacher said, grabbing her arm.  
  
She growled, pulling it back.  
  
“Malia, go,” whispered Stiles in what he hoped was a convincing, pacifying tone.  
  
She gave him a hesitant glance before obeying and following the teacher to what he assumed was Student Administration.  
  
Yeah, he definitely preferred men.

***

Scott called together a pack meeting that night, wanting to chill with his homies. Stiles wasn’t much in the mood for a hangout session. His stomach was impersonating a wild tsunami and his head a 10.0 earthquake. Not to mention he was wholly chastened by his girlfriend’s rather peculiar actions earlier that day. Speaking of the devil…  
  
“Hello, Stiles,” Malia welcomed as she walked through Derek’s front door.  
  
_Didn’t I tell Scott specifically not to invite her?_ Stiles thought moderately brazenly. He didn’t care if he wasn’t supposed to think that kind of stuff about the girl he was dating; she had it coming.  
  
“Hey, Malia. You look… _coyoteyish_ today. Is it the new hairstyle? I think it’s the new hairstyle.”  
  
“I didn’t get a new hairstyle, moron…”  
  
Before he was forced to engage in a conversation with the maniac coyote-girl, he side-stepped her and found himself standing by Derek alone in the small dining room of his newly rebuilt home. The windows let in the twilight rays, giving the room a dark, luminous glow.  
  
“What a freaking weirdo,” mumbled Stiles to himself but intending for Derek to hear.  
  
“Takes one to know one,” Derek murmured back.  
  
“Hey! That’s no fair. The girl’s a freaking wild beast animal-thing! How could she be anything _but_ a weirdo?”  
  
Derek cleared throat meaningfully and Stiles blushed.  
  
“Oh, um… Not every wild beast animal-thing is weird… Just coyote ones...”  
  
Derek just shook his head at Stiles, a small, almost invisible smile creeping up on his luscious lips. Not able to help himself, Stiles beamed back sheepishly, relieved yet slightly embarrassed by his blunt annotations on wild beast animal-things.  
  
“So if you’re so disgusted by her, why are you two dating?”  
  
Stiles turned a deeper shade of red, hoping the gray light hid its radiating intensity.  
  
“I… uh… she’s a really great girl, er, not really… Um, her sweetness—ok definitely not that… She’s somewhat of a looker… Okay, you got me. I hate that BEEP.”  
  
Derek passed him a blank, emotionless glance. _Surprise, surprise_ , thought Stiles. _And now here comes the scolding…_  
  
“Do you want me to... permanently dispose of her?” queried Derek. Stiles cackled a nervous laugh, expecting to see at least a tiny grin on that stoic face of his, but instead found dead serious questioning eyes staring back.  
  
“Oh my God, you’re not kidding,” he whispered in absolute disbelief. “You’re really, actually for realzies right now. You wanna kill my girlfriend. Your own kin. Oh my God.”  
  
“Please don’t ever say ‘for realzies’ in my presence again.”  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on,” he spat out, nearly coating Derek’s face in spittle, “cut me some slack. We younger folks use that kind of diction quite frequently. The couple generations of age difference prevents you from understanding.”  
  
“Hey—I’m not _old_!” Derek shuddered as if just the very thought of aging made him want to die then and there before he reached senior citizenship.  
  
“Ok, off topic,” Stiles stated. “You can’t kill Malia. Even if she’s an insane wild beast animal-thing. But I don’t know what to do and I can’t ask Scott for advice because Lord knows he ain’t got none to give. So any suggestions would be greatly appreciated—"  
  
“How about you—”  
  
"—That don’t involve murder, torture, dog fights, snapping bones, or ripping out throats with teeth rather deviously.”  
  
Which of course left Derek speechless.  
  
Stiles sighed, frowning and looking at his feet. “Maybe I should just stop being so picky and be happy with what I got. I’m sure many young adolescents would be plenty happy to have a girl like her, you know, one that smalls like decay and pees on people… I just need to see the better side of things. See the light side of the mood rather than the dark. The glass of strawberry ice tea half full, not empty. The donut glazed instead of dry and—”  
  
“You could always break up with her,” Derek suggested discreetly.  
  
Stiles only scowled at him for a moment before saying, “As if it’s that easy. As if I haven’t already thought of doing that. I can’t just… get rid of her. It doesn’t— I just can’t!”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Dang fleb him for being so simplistic. “Ugh, Derek, not everything is as black and white as it was back in the days when you were a high schooler. You know, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and there was no such thing as electric can openers? Yeah, anyway, our world has complex, in-between blends of black and white. There really are at least fifty shades of gray. I can’t just break up with a girl like Malia. She’ll scratch my face off or something! Good looks like these don’t come every generation. Gotta keep this hot stuff all fresh and packaged for later uses.”  
  
“I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Derek said. “But you can end things with her, you’re just too afraid to do so.”  
  
“Was that some kind of a challenge, Derek?”  
  
“Call it what you want, kid.”  
  
“I am going to call it a challenge. And challenge accepted, sourwolf. I am breaking up with that girl, er… thing—that coyote. Agh, never mind.”  
  
“Alright, then,” Derek said with a smirk. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”  
  
Stiles’ face lit up. “See—it was a challenge! I knew it!”  
  
Without waiting for Derek to answer, Stiles strode off to find Malia and end things with that female dog.  
  
_Yeah!_ he thought on his way. _I’m ready for this! I was born ready for this! ‘Bout to prove that pessimistic pup Derek wrong. Make him eat it!_  
  
But as soon as he was standing by Malia, who was gnawing on fresh and raw squirrel flesh, all of his courage melted. A mental image of that squirrel meat being replaced by his meat filled his head. He couldn’t do it.  
  
“Wanna try?” she asked through a mouthful of meat, offering over a piece to a heaving Stiles.  
  
“N-no thanks,” he muttered. “I forgot something in the other room.” And with that he was off to find Derek again.  
  
“You were right,” he spat out as soon as he found the man. It pained him greatly to admit such a thing, but it was necessary for the situation. “I can’t do it, Derek. I need help.”  
  
Derek had an amused look on his face. “Who’s to say I would provide that help?”  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes, pleading, “Derek, _please_. I can’t turn to anyone else; they wouldn’t understand. I just need a little guidance, that’s all.”  
  
The room stayed silent for such a long time that Stiles worried nothing was going to be said, that he’d be stuck in his gut twisting relationship. But finally, Derek heaved a heavy sigh at Stiles and said a single word that had them both inadvertently smiling at each other.  
  
“Fine.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know dedications are supposed to go at the beginning of works, but I consider myself to be a nontraditional kind of girl, so I'm making this dedication in the second chapter. This one is for my sister, a diehard Sterek fan. Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas, birch!

The sheriff woke up Saturday morning to a loud clash coming from the kitchen downstairs, followed by a series of curses. He groaned sympathetically, knowing his son didn’t mean to be such a klutz.  
  
Without bothering to dress, he made his way down to the kitchen, only to find a mess of coffee mug shards littering the entirety of the tiled floor. Stiles was desperately attempting to sweep it all up, probably before the sheriff could see the clutter.  
  
He cleared his throat, causing Stiles to let out a small shriek.  
  
“Dad!” he cried. “Oh, hey, Dad. Uh, I made you coffee. And managed to break your favorite mugs, but it’s the thought that truly counts, right?”  
  
The sheriff only sighed and shook his head. “Didn’t this very same thing happen last month?”  
  
Stiles laughed to himself, mumbling, “Oh, yeah, that was kinda funny— b-but I know it was wrong! I won’t do it again… on purpose,” he said while pointing his finger at his father.  
  
Smiling, the sheriff helped his son clean up the broken mugs and when they were finished, poured them each a cup of coffee.  
  
“So,” Stiles said, sipping from his coffee, “do you have to work today?”  
  
The sheriff swallowed a drink and cleared his throat. “Not until later tonight. Shift starts at six and ends at four the next morning.” He really wasn’t looking forward to working that night. A new movie was premiering at midnight, one that was a book both him and his son had enjoyed reading. He wanted to take Stiles out to watch it, a little father-son bonding time, but as always, his work prevented that from happening.  
  
“Oow, sorry, Pops. Hey, I was wondering if maybe today I could go to Derek’s house for a bit. We have a little… planning to do.”  
  
Derek’s house. The sheriff liked Derek, he really did. The man was good to his son and Scott, not to mention he had awesome werewolf powers. But he had a hunch that Derek might have… _special_ feelings for his son. Fatherly instincts and all that. The sheriff didn’t mind that; he was open to anything, really. But he didn’t want his son to find out about these “special feelings” and then be hurt by them. Despite the fact that Stiles had a girlfriend, he guessed he probably swung both ways and might go with Derek if he asked. The sheriff just wanted his son to be happy and not later be upset if a relationship with a friend was ruined by a couple bad dates.  
  
Of course, he was probably overanalyzing the whole situation.  
  
“What sort of planning?” he questioned.  
  
“A surprise birthday party for Scott.”  
  
“Scott’s birthday isn’t for three months.”  
  
“Never hurts to be prepared, Dad. I’m pretty sure you taught me that.”  
  
He shook his head. “Nah, that would have been your mother.”  
  
The two men stood silently for a moment, thinking about the deceased woman that made them both so happy. Finally, Stiles spoke up, saying, “So is that a yes or a no?”  
  
The sheriff sighed yet again. “Sure. Just be home before I leave for work so I can at least say goodbye to you.”  
  
Stiles did a little happy dance, causing the sheriff to chuckle.  
  
“Thanks, Dad! Gotta go, love you!”  
  
“You too, kid.”  
  
On his way out of the house, Stiles tripped on the rug and fell to his knees. Laughing and pushing himself back up, he shouted to his father, “You didn’t see that!”  
  
The sheriff just shook his head once again, a small smile on his face. “What a klutz…”  
  
  
***  
  
  
Stiles parked his blue jeep in front of Derek’s new country house, nervous to be alone with him. Sure, they spent lots of time together and he’d even consider him one of his close friends, but he never really had one-on-one time with him like this before.  
  
“My goodness, Stiles, you’re such a pussy,” he murmured to himself. Deciding he needed some advice, he dialed the one person he could trust with personal information.  
  
“Hello?” came Lydia’s sweet voice through the phone.  
  
“Hey, Lyds. It’s me, Stiles.”  
  
“Uh, Stiles, it’s called ‘caller ID.’ I know it’s you.”  
  
Stiles’ face reddened. “Right. Um, ok, so I need some guidance here. I am going to break up with Malia.”  
  
“It’s about time. I’ve noticed you weren’t very happy with her.”  
  
“Of course you did. You notice everything. Anyway, I can’t bring myself to break things off with her. You know, out of fear for my life and all that? So I asked Derek to help me do it and—”  
  
“Wait, you asked _Derek_ to help you break up with her? Derek? Why would you ask him? All of his past relationships involve serial killers and crazy girls. You should’ve asked me…”  
  
Stiles smirked. “Jealous much, Lydia?”  
  
“No! Just concerned. But that’s off topic. What’s your problem?”  
  
He hesitated. What was his problem? Why was Derek making him so nervous? He wasn’t sure, exactly. “I… it’s hard to explain. When I am around Derek, I feel something strong. Something that makes my blood boil and my heart throb. It’s something I can’t quite explain, but it just feels so _right_ that it hurts. I don’t know how to handle those feelings, what to make of them.”  
  
The line was silent for a moment, making him wonder if the bad countryside reception was the cause, until Lydia spoke again. “Stiles, I have a question. You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable. Then again, not answering will probably just make it even more uncomfortable. Do you—well, are you… Do you happen to be gay or bisexual?”  
  
Without thinking, he answered, “Yes.”  
  
“That’s what I thought.”  
  
“Wait, what? I don’t seem gay, do I? I hardly believe I radiate homosexuality. Well, more like bisexuality.”  
  
She laughed through the phone. “Honey, I’ve always kind of knew. That’s just a girl with an exceptionally perceptive gaydar noticing. But honestly, I think it’d do you good to come out with it. Back to Derek, though: I think you might be crushing on him. Just play it cool and act normal around him. Let things play out the way they naturally do, and then see where that takes you. Try not to be anxious. He’s your friend. You’re Malia-planning, not having a date, so don’t feel pressured, alright?”  
  
He smiled, relieved to hear her good-intentioned advice. “Thanks, Lyds. Man, you always know what to say. Ok, I probably should go inside now, considering I’ve been sitting suspiciously outside of his house for the past five minutes.”  
  
“You’re at his _house_?”  
  
“Yeah. I like it there. See ya later, Princess.”  
  
“Bye, Stiles. Be careful,” she warned.  
  
“I will.”  
  
He hung up his phone and slid it in his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the car door and stepped onto the gravel road in front of the house.  
  
He awkwardly walked to the front door, hoping Derek wasn’t watching him from a window or something. Nothing’s weirder than knowing you’re being window-stalked. He wondered if Derek was the window-stalking type, always peering through the curtains to see what stranger decided to pay him a visit for the day. _Stop thinking stupid stuff, Stiles!_  
  
Forcing himself to calm down, Stiles stood in front of the door and was about to knock when it opened. _Yup, he’s a window-stalker for sure_.  
  
Derek greeted him, telling him to come inside. Not knowing what exactly to do with himself, Stiles settled for studying a fern in the corner of the living room. _What an interesting fern. Sitting there all ferny and whatnot._  
  
“There are chairs in here for a reason, Stiles,” Derek teased, raising one eyebrow.  
  
Slightly embarrassed, Stiles retaliated, saying, “Yup, I knew that. Sitting down, right now, in the… chairs. Totally doing that.” _Smooth_.  
  
“Alright, then,” he said, taking a seat next to Stiles on the couch. “Shall we begin planning your breakup?”  
  
“Yeah, sure.”  
  
After what seemed like an eternity of planning, Stiles whined, “I’m hungry. And bored. Let’s order some pizza.”  
  
Derek did his infamous eyebrow arch. “We’ve been working for,” he looked down at his wristwatch, “seven minutes now. You can’t possibly be hungry and bored already.”  
  
“But I am! I only had a blueberry Poptart for breakfast. Please? I’ll pay for it!” Which, of course, was a white lie. He was broke. “I really just want food. You can’t deprive a growing teenage boy of food. I won’t grow into a healthy, strong, manly man without the proper nutrients. Which pizza would obviously provide. Please?”  
  
“Fine, just shut up! But I want Chinese.”  
  
“What- no! Chinese is lame sauce. Pizza.”  
  
“It’s my house, I’m ordering, we both know I’m paying, and I want Chinese.”  
  
“B-but Derek!” he howled melodramatically. “Pizza!”  
  
Derek sighed histrionically. “Fine. If you’re so set on pizza, we’ll order both.”  
  
“Yay!”  
  
Derek rolled his eyes.  
  
They tried to come up with the perfect way to break things off with Malia while they waited for the delivery men to come. Derek offered to kill her again, but Stiles turned down the idea without even considering it. Murder was definitely out of the picture. But that left both of them fresh out of ways to get rid of the girl without getting Stiles mauled half to death. He could tell her his dad didn’t like them seeing each other, but that put the sheriff in danger, which was not an option. Derek suggested behaving in a way Malia wouldn’t like, which seemed like an alright plan, until Stiles realized that’d take a lot more effort than he was willing to give.  
  
Before they could brainstorm anymore, there was a heavy knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” Derek announced, grabbing his wallet. Stiles followed close behind like a child wanting to spy on his parents talking at the door.  
  
“And here your Chinese donuts,” the Chinese delivery man said, handing over the last of the food. “That be thirty bucks.”  
  
“What the hell do you mean, _thirty_ bucks?” Derek cried, astonished by the outrageous pricing.  
  
The delivery man snickered to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thirty bucks. You pay, I deliver. No argue. Special delivery charge”  
  
Grunting, Derek handed the man his money and slammed the door shut on his face. “Con artist.”  
  
“You shouldn’t have paid.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
He set the food down on the kitchen counter and Stiles inhaled the delicious scents of the food. Crap. He wasn’t supposed to want Chinese. He wanted the meat-lovers pizza.  
  
Derek said he’d wait for the pizza to get there to eat, so Stiles initiated a game of twenty questions to make up for the wait.  
  
“What’s your favorite food?” he began  
  
“Steak.”  
  
“Understandable. Opinion regarding adult diapers?”  
  
“Unsanitary.”  
  
“But necessary?”  
  
“In some cases.”  
  
“Pet peeve?”  
  
“Bratty kids trying to pry into my life by playing twenty questions.”  
  
Stiles frowned. Derek thought of him as a _kid_? And annoying?  
  
“Fine,” he spat out, trying not to sound like an offended, bratty _kid_. “You can find a way to entertain yourself. Meanwhile, I’ll be playing kid games with my kid self and having fun like us kids do.”  
  
Derek didn’t respond, just smirked the tiniest smile Stiles had ever seen, making his face light up. He was only teasing. And he smiled for him! It was like a Christmas miracle to lure even the smallest of smiles out of Derek. Stiles instantly felt happier and reassured.  
  
“Do you want to pry into my kid life by playing twenty questions?”  
  
“Do you like cats?”  
  
Stiles laughed lightly. “No, I have cat allergies. But I do love myself some dogs.” He blushed, remembering the small fact that Derek was half wolf himself. “Uh, only whole dogs, not like werewolves or anything. Crap. Werewolves are cool, too. Next question, please?”  
  
They continued on for several minutes until the pizza arrived.  
  
“Wow,” Derek mused. “This pizza looks really good.”  
  
“I was totally thinking the same thing about the Chinese.”  
  
The room was awkwardly silent for a moment, both men realizing their earlier stupidity.  
  
“Should we switch?” Stiles asked.  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
And so they ate each other’s meals, joking about their prior disagreement. Afterwards, they decided to postpone the planning and instead watched reruns of _The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills_.  
  
“I can’t believe I’m watching this with you,” Derek cogitated in utter disbelief.  
  
“Come on, you know you love Kyle. But to be honest, I really can’t stand Brandi. Not to mention she does not know how to dress.”  
  
As it got darker outside, Stiles noticed himself inching closer and closer to Derek’s side until their thighs were all the way touching. The heat given off by him comforted him in a way he couldn’t quite understand. Like he explained to Lydia before, it just felt _right_. There was no logical reason as to why; he just knew it did.  
  
Gradually, Stiles started to fidget, remembering suddenly that he forgot to take his Adderall for that day. It’s not like the medicine prevented the twitching, only tamed it a bit. Derek must’ve noticed the fiddling, because he placed a calloused hand on Stiles knee as a sign of comfort. Stiles immediately stilled, unable to breathe. _It’s only a hand, Stiles. Not a hug or kiss or something. Just a hand_.  
  
Stiles shot Derek an uneasy smile and went back to watching the show, but his mind was elsewhere. He honestly couldn’t tell what the hand-comforting meant. He knew Derek was gay, but was he just being friendly? Or maybe he was piqued by Stiles’ uncanny twitching. But perhaps he felt something deeper than what friendship would explain. Maybe he, like Stiles, desperately felt the need to be around him. Stiles prayed that was the reason, because never had he wanted a human being like he wanted Derek. Not even his massive crush for Lydia when he was younger compared to the intensity of this need to be close to Derek.  
  
His hand didn’t move from its spot on Stiles knee, and though it wasn’t much, it was enough for now. Stiles would take it. He would cherish it and manipulate it into meaning more than it most likely actually did.  
  
During a commercial break, Stiles’ phone vibrated, making Derek remove his hand. His heart sunk, but he wouldn’t let that show and instead checked his phone.  
  
“Shit! I gotta take this,” Stiles bellowed upon seeing that it was his father. Who would be leaving for work in less than ten minutes. He got from his spot on the couch and strutted his way to the kitchen.  
  
“Hello, Daddy-o!” he sing-songed, trying to buy his way out of scolding through cheerfulness. “And how are you on this fine evening?”  
  
“Really, Stiles?”  
  
“I lost track of time!”  
  
“I told you under what circumstances you could go to Derek’s house.”  
  
“We were watching _The Real Housewives_. That show makes you forget those kinds of things.”  
  
“What kinds of things? Responsibilities?”  
  
“Exactly! I’m glad you understand. Do I have time to make it home before you leave?”  
  
His dad sighed. “No, I’m on my way already.”  
  
“I really am sorry, Dad.”  
  
“I know, kid. It’s alright. See you tomorrow, okay?”  
  
“’Kay. Love you.”  
  
“You too.”  
  
When he hung up and returned to the living room, Derek was already standing and had the TV turned off.  
  
“I have to go,” Stiles hummed remorsefully.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“I’m a werewolf, Stiles. I have especially acute senses.”  
  
“Right. Translation: you eaves-dropped. It’s alright; I don’t mind. Mind if I take home something healthy-ish for my dad?”  
  
“No. Go ahead. Though I don’t know what you’re going to find healthy from a meal of Chinese food and pizza.”  
  
“I’ll just pick out the veggies from the beef and broccoli mix.” Silence engulfed the room.  
  
Derek cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. We can continue planning at the next pack meeting.”  
  
“Sure. I think Scott was talking about Tuesday night. I’ll see you then.”  
  
Without thinking, Stiles trotted to Derek and wrapped his arms around his neck. He could feel him tense up, his already-taut muscles becoming even tighter. Derek didn’t return the hug, but he didn’t reject it either. Rather, he let it happen, which was good enough for Stiles.  
  
“Bye,” he whispered as he let go. He didn’t look at Derek’s face as he hurried out of the room, dashing to his car and starting the ignition as fast as he could. He didn’t even check for ongoing traffic as he pulled onto the road and speeded home.  
  
As soon as he threw the broccoli in the fridge and made it to his room, he collapsed on his bed and beamed a toothy grin to himself.  
  
“Life is good…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter was a little less vulgary and a little more fluffy. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Just had finals week and my family Christmas, so I was a little preoccupied. This chapter is also a bit shorter than usual, but I can assure you the next one will be longer. And be warned: this chapter may contain an alarming amount of sniffing, and it's not just from Derek's wolfly instincts. Also, fluff. Lots of fluff.

Derek was solemnly staring out the window Monday afternoon when he heard an almost soundless knock on his front door. Grunting, he strode heavily in the direction of the door to see who was disturbing his tranquil silence.  
  
It was Malia. He knew before he even peeked through the peephole. Her toxic smell knew no barriers; it went right through the thick wood of his house. He wanted to plug his nose or Lysol the entirety of the house or _kill_ her—something, anything to get rid of the foul scent.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” he asked suspiciously as she let herself in.  
  
“No,” she answered carelessly. “I’ve been suspended for a couple days. Didn’t even do anything worthy of suspension!”  
  
Deciding it wasn’t worth it to argue, Derek remained silent.  
  
“So what have you been up to, Derek?”  
  
He’d had enough of her and she hadn’t even been in his house for a minute. “Why are you in my house, Malia?”  
  
“I’m hungry and I don’t have any food. You, however, do.” With that, she opened the fridge. “Oow, you have carryout. Chinese _and_ pizza? All for one guy?”  
  
“Don’t touch it!” he nearly screamed, his eyes flashing and his claws threatening to reveal themselves. He wouldn’t allow his cheeks to blush even though he seared red inside from embarrassment. No way would he ever admit that the reason the carryout hadn’t been finished was because he was _afraid_ to touch it. Afraid of the possibility that even the slightest of disturbances to the boxes would forever scare away Stiles’ still present smell on them. The same reason why, two days later, he still hadn’t sat on the couch that they watched that paltry, staged reality TV show together on. He was too in love with Stiles’ autumn scent to rid of even the tiniest of whiffs he got from it.  
  
Planning with Stiles had been virtually impossible. He could hardly contain himself; he had wanted to wrap the boy in his arms and _inhale_ him for an impossibly long time. He knew that even if Stiles was okay with him obsessively sniffing, which he probably wasn’t, but even if he was, he’d most likely still be weirded out by the extent of which Derek wanted to do it.  
  
It had been the worst when Stiles hugged (he honestly hated that word- hug—such a fluffy, trifling word) him. He was on the verge of losing it, with Stiles’ body pressed against his and his arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his scent practically melting over Derek. He wouldn’t even have breathed, but the tempting Stiles Smell drew him in and beckoned his nostrils to deeply inhale. He had taken in Stiles’ scent the best he could, but even now, the smells were fading and he was slowly losing the serenity of the smell.  
  
“Um, hello?” a disturbing voice quacked (yes, quacked. Problem? Yeah, Derek has one too). He shook his head and sadly left his reverie behind.  
  
“Get out of my house, Malia.”  
  
“Oh, come on! I just got here and—”  
  
“Now, Malia!” Derek growled, baring his sharp teeth in her direction.  
  
She only shrugged and grabbed a bottled water from the fridge before exiting his house.  
  
 _I wonder if they sell coyote poison at stores_ , he thought tiredly. _Would I be a bad person if I bought coyote poison to use on my cousin? …Wait, when have I ever cared if I was being a bad person? Or about hurting my cousin? I need some sleep…_  
  
And so he decided to take a nap. But he couldn’t resist the urge any longer; he drifted off into his dreamland on the faintly Stiles-smelling couch.

***

Tuesday at school had to be the most boring day of Stiles’ life.  
  
He had four substitute teachers who had all just given him busy work. In his other classes, he had only taken notes. All he could think about the entire day was seeing Derek at the pack meeting later on.  
  
He had a feeling their reunion would be slightly awkward since he had embraced him without his consent. He really didn’t mind that the hug hadn’t been returned; he just hoped it wasn’t going to be uncomfortable that night.  
  
Of course it was. It always was.  
  
Derek hadn’t even made eye contact with him in the first five minutes of seeing each other. This was strange, even for Derek. While being a nearly emotionless pain in the arse, he always managed to maintain eye contact even in the most inappropriate situations. It made Stiles feel extremely… uncomfortable.  
  
“Talk to me, Sourwolf,” he said under his breath after an asphyxiating ten minutes of silence.  
  
“You smell good.”  
  
…Okay. Definitely not what he was expecting to hear, but he’d take what he got. Smelling good was never a bad thing in his book, just— what the hell?  
  
“I really don’t have a clever remark for that,” he admitted, slightly amused. Only slightly. “What do… what do I smell like, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
  
Derek didn’t respond, only finally looked down at him, a small gleam in his eyes. What was up with this freak tonight?  
  
“Um, Derek, you’re beginning to scare me… Stop looking at me like that- oow, not like that either! Can you please just turn the other way or something?”  
  
Before Derek could respond, Scott called the pack into the living room. Derek stayed close to Stiles’ side as they made their way to the corner of the room (the one with Stiles’ fern friend). Stiles sort of liked the attention, but was greatly freaked out by it, too.  
  
Scott cleared his throat to quiet the group down a bit. The room collapsed in silence, save for Jackson who was obliviously still talking loudly to a humiliated Lydia. No one shushed him, only allowed for time to elapse before he caught on and slowly allowed his voice to fade. “I’m done now, continue on,” he said when Scott still didn’t speak.  
  
Stiles hated that side of Scott, the one that was always in control and treated everyone else like they were toddlers in daycare or something.  
  
“Alright, thank you for wasting the last five minutes of our time, Jacks,” he acerbically shot at Jackson.  
  
Stiles hated that exaggerating side, too- it had been _maybe_ thirty seconds at the most.  
  
“Anyway, we have a bit of a problem here,” he continued. “Hunters took down an entire pack last night: forty-six members, all dead. We need to get rid of these hunters, but first we have to…”  
  
Scott blabbered on for a gratuitously long time, but Stiles blocked him out, because Derek was standing _right next to him_ , like literally on top of him, and he was so warm.  
  
“Um, Derek, bud, do you need something?” he asked apprehensively.  
  
“You just… you smell really good,” he responded, sounding almost… ashamed. Ha! Ashamed and Derek. Not two things that typically seem to go together.  
  
“Yeah, we’ve already established this. Stiles is good smelling. Do you mind trying to _not_ smell me creepily?”  
  
“I can’t help it.”  
  
“Can’t you choose what scents to pick up?”  
  
“No— I mean that I can’t help but to want to smell you.”  
  
“Walking away now,” Stiles slurred, saving himself from a potential stalker. He’d already established he was a window-stalker, so nothing should surprise him now.  
  
It’s not that he particularly minded being… smelled. It’s just that Derek would never so obviously do something like sniff him and then tell him _he smells good_ repeatedly. That just wasn’t the kind of person he was, and he was scaring him. Derek wouldn’t even return a feeble hug, yet he had the guts to freaking half snort him to death.  
  
Derek followed him into the dining room where Stiles plopped himself down in a chair and slumped appropriately. He vaguely wondered if the weird sniffing thing was just a wolf characteristic, but then again, _Scott_ didn’t do that. _Well it’s settled, then. Derek the Sourwolf is a complete weirdo._  
  
“Should we Malia plan again?” Derek asked.  
  
“No, I am getting tired of that. I am just going to lay it down for her. I have the perfect speech made up, too.”  
  
“Oh,” Derek said in a deflated voice. Maybe he had been looking forward to the time spent smelling Stiles. He felt a little bad, but no— _he’s using you! He only wants you around to quell his strange smelling fetish._  
  
But he was still Derek, the Derek that Stiles would finally admit he had a massive crush on. He couldn’t really stay mad at him. Or more like creeped out by him.  
  
“You should… watch from a distance to make sure things don’t get out of hand.” _Nice, Stiles. You just gave him permission to stalk you. Smart move there, dumbass._  
  
“Ok.”  
  
Stiles made his way back to the room where Scott was relentlessly jabbering about _nothing_. He saw Malia picking at her nails by his fern and tried to get her attention by jumping up and down and mouthing her name. Everyone in the room noticed him _except_ Malia; she was too busy eating something out of her nails.  
  
 _Disgusting. Ew ew ew. And now everyone is staring. Great._  
  
“Do you have something you’d like to say to us all, Stiles?” Scott rhetorically questioned in his condescending way.  
  
“Oh, back off, Scott,” he said with an eye roll. “Malia, come here.”  
  
She surprisingly listened and followed him into the kitchen where he presumed Derek was hiding.  
  
“What is it?” she asked.  
  
Crap. His nerves were getting to him again. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t—  
  
“I said, what is it, moron?”  
  
“I… You’re a really nice coyote, er, girl and all, but… I really don’t like you.”  
  
Shit. It was definitely not supposed to come out like that. Oh well, he was already on a roll. Might as well keep it consistently going.  
  
“Like, at all,” he continued. “You’re disgusting. Maybe there’s a man out there that will put up with your utter grossness, but not me. We’re through… This is a breakup,” he added quickly for good measure.  
  
She stared at him for a few moments before shrugging. “Okay,” she said as she walked to the fridge, took a slice of leftover pizza from the planning day, and treaded back to the meeting.  
  
“You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me!” Stiles bellowed at the world. “All of that planning, all of that worry for nothing!”  
  
Derek smirked, suddenly appearing in the room. “At least you’re free now.”  
  
“Since when have _you_ been the positive thinker?”  
  
“Good smelling people have that effect on me.”  
  
This Derek was really freaking him out. He was not sure whether that was a good thing or not. But he quickly decided on letting it be a good thing; he’d take what he wants from his heart and he’d keep it in a bag- in a box.  
  
“I think I deserve a proper hug after that accomplishment, Sourwolf,” he said, really hoping that Derek wouldn’t claw at his face or worse, walk away without saying anything.  
  
He did neither, rather just glare. _Oh, God, glaring is bad, too_. But finally, he rolled his eyes and walked over to where Stiles stood. He almost exploded—literally _exploded_ — as he felt himself get wrapped up in Derek’s strong, muscled arms that were so warm and ripped. He didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, flinging his own lanky arms around the older man’s neck. He crushed his face into Derek’s chest and decided to try at the other man’s own game, deeply inhaling. He smelled alright. Kind of like wet dog mixed with sweat and cologne, but Stiles loved it nevertheless.  
  
He could feel his aroma being taken in by Derek’s flaring nostrils, and he didn’t even care. So what? He was freaking being hugged by _Derek Hale_. Their bodies were touching in an intimate way- he loved it so much it hurt.  
  
Before he knew it, Derek’s lips were on him. Not on his own lips like he would’ve wanted, but _oh my flip floppity fluck, Derek is giving me a kiss_. On the top of his head. Then his forehead when Stiles looked him in the eyes.  
  
And then it was all over. Derek seemed to snap, realizing what he was doing, and he left Stiles in the cold, dark air of the kitchen.  
  
Stiles didn’t even give a half headed peacock, because Derek had just K-I-S-S-E-D him. Twice! He had pressed those precious lips on his freaking body and it felt so right that Stiles wanted to do a happy dance.  
  
Wait, he was doing a happy dance. And his moves were pretty good. He laughed at himself, impressed that he was moving his body in ways he never had imagined before.  
  
He stopped when Scott entered the kitchen.  
  
“What the hell was that?” he said with a quizzical look on his face. “You missed out on the entire meeting just to dance… _alone_ … in the dark kitchen?”  
  
Stiles didn’t respond; he was too humiliated to. He was sure his face was crimson.  
  
“Nice moves though, buddy,” Scott said with a small smile.  
  
Stiles didn’t return the smile, just ran into the bathroom adjacent to the kitchen and slammed the door shut, locking it to keep out any wandering eyes.  
  
He gawked at his reflection for a few minutes before beaming again. He couldn’t help himself; he broke out in his happy dance again.  
  
And were his moves ever on-point tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh I don't really want a note at the beginning of this chapter but I'm too lazy to unclick the add note button thing. So here's your note. Note note note note note note note this is really not looking like a word anymore...

When Stiles pulled into his driveway Thursday night after lacrosse practice, he nearly had a heart attack. Why was there a black Camaro parked on the street next to his house? There was no way Derek was just here for a visit. While his _dad_ was home. This couldn’t mean anything good.  
  
“Deep breaths, Stiles, my boy,” he whispered soothingly to himself. “Maybe he just wants to have a friendly conversation with your father the freaking _sheriff_. Oh God. Mean Wolf People don’t mix well with flipping _police_.” He thought for a moment. “I really need to stop talking to myself sometime soon.”  
  
Trying not to think about the possibilities of what could be going down, Stiles stumbled out of his Jeep and slammed the door shut without locking it. He tentatively entered his house, expecting to hear fighting or screaming or something. Instead, he caught soft voices buzzing from the living room. Following the voices, he peered into the room, only to see his dad casually talking to the _Sourwolf_.  
  
“…So yeah, I never did get that cat out of the tree,” he laughed. “I told the man, and listen, I told him, ‘Call the fire department for that, son.’”  
  
Stiles gagged inaudibly. Well, apparently it was audible, because it got the attention of both Derek and the sheriff.  
  
“Stiles,” his father said. “When did you get here?”  
  
“When did _he_ get here?” Stiles mused, pointing a finger accusingly at Derek.  
  
“A few minutes ago.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Why are you here?”  
  
“This is my home, _Dad_. However, last time I checked, Wolfman here doesn’t live in my home.”  
  
“I can leave now,” Derek proposed.  
  
“Don’t do that,” Stiles whined, almost panicking a bit. He certainly didn’t mind him being at his house, as long as he was there to monitor everything.  
  
The sheriff smiled a small thing, then chuckled a bit to himself. “I am going to the bathroom. I won’t be back for a while. Why don’t you two talk about what we talked about, Derek?” He grabbed a newspaper and made his way up to the second floor bathroom.  
  
“What the hell did you two talk about?”  
  
Derek looked to the floor and growled. “Dammit. I really don’t know how to say this.”  
  
Stiles wanted to scream from confusion and the awkwardness of the entire situation. What was going on?  
  
“You just… you smell so good, Stiles.”  
  
Forget wanting to scream; Stiles let out a bloodcurdling, macabre shrill of pure frustration. He threw himself on the ground and grabbed a pillow from the couch to shriek in to. He knew he was being a baby, but it didn’t bother him one bit. He was sick and tired of Derek’s strange wolfly ways that tore him apart. And now Derek was going to suffer through his tizzy fit. It served him right. Stiles didn’t feel a single bit ashamed about it. His purgatory drowned out any ignominy he could feel.  
  
“Stiles, can we just—”  
  
“YOU STOP THAT!” Stiles screamed as he threw the slobbered on couch pillow at Derek. It hit him square in the cheek meat. “Stop messing with my head, you dick! Just let me say what I want to say and then you can have a word.”  
  
“Ok, fine. Talk.”  
  
“I SAID— oh wait, really? Well, um, alright. It’s just… This is all so strange and weird and confusing and… I don’t know what to make of it. W-why are you here?”  
  
Derek hesitated, something he rarely ever did. “Your smell is so intoxicating that I have a hard time breathing around you, so that’s why I’ve been having difficulty talking to you lately. I… apologize for that. But I think… I _know_ I want to be your… your…”  
  
“My, what, _Derek_?”  
  
“…Your Malia… Except one that you’ll like. And that doesn’t have a vagina.”  
  
Stiles was shocked. Did Derek really just say _vagina_? He felt the whole world was spinning backwards. Derek just told him he wanted him.  
  
He wouldn’t allow his face to blush; he was over that. Instead he tried to keep a stoic face. Time to mess with the wolfman to compensate for all the confusion.  
  
“Who says I want a new Malia?”  
  
“I thought… maybe… You _hugged_ me.”  
  
“I hug my dad.”  
  
“…”  
  
“And how do you know I’m into guys, even?”  
  
“Stiles, you radiate gayness.”  
  
“Uh! I don’t act gay… do I?”  
  
“That’s aside the point, Stiles. You know what? Forget it. I am leaving.”  
  
“No, wait!” Stiles shouted, suddenly afraid he blew his chances. He grabbed the other man’s arm desperately, making sure he had an iron grip. He was _not_ letting the man get away tonight. “I was just avenging myself for your stupid games. Can’t we just… hug or something?”  
  
Derek smiled. A sincere, honest, for realzies _smile_. He shrugged off Stiles’ “iron grip” like it was nothing, leaving Stiles thinking that he should probably start going to the gym or something. But that thought quickly vanished, for Derek grabbed his bony fingers with his strong, calloused ones. He then pulled him into the bear hug (more like wolf hug- ha) he so desired.  
  
Stiles hugged back like there was no tomorrow and cherished the warmth Derek’s body provided. Rubbing his hands on his lean back muscles, he _really_ thought he should probably start going to the gym or something because he felt so flabby in comparison. But Derek didn’t notice, or at least Stiles didn’t think, because he was way too busy inhaling his supposedly good smell. Stiles didn’t mind this time ‘round, but he vaguely wondered what exactly he did to make himself so sensationally great smelling. _Note to self: start noticing how you smell_.  
After a few minutes, Stiles is pushed roughly back. “Careful with the shoving, Wolfy.”  
  
“I didn’t mean to jolt you so jaggedly,” Derek admitted, scratching his noggin.  
  
“ _Jolt me so jaggedly_? Props on the creative vocabulary there. Where did you—”  
  
He was so rudely interrupted by— _Oh my Lordy Lord, he is freaking kissing me right now. Good God_.  
  
Derek’s lips, much like expected, were dry and rough and in need of some chapstick, which Stiles felt he’d have to buy him, but they were also pleasantly soft and _Oh my goodness, Derek is kissing me. KISSING_.  
  
Kissing Derek was like blood splattered on a fresh layer of snow- it was equally as beautiful and divine as it was bizarre and abnormal. It wasn’t supposed to be happening and yet it was, and it was perfect. He didn’t know how he’d been missing out on it all of his life. _These beautiful lips have been here literally my entire life, and yet here I was dating a wild beast animal-thing. With putrid, rotten breath_.  
  
The kiss ended not because either boy broke it off, rather because a screaming sheriff burst into the room.  
  
“STILES.”  
  
“Oh, what now?” Stiles moaned.  
  
“I’m out,” Derek announced, quickly leaving out the front door.  
  
“Get in my cruiser- NOW,” the sheriff demanded.  
  
Sighing, Stiles dragged himself to his father’s police car in the driveway. Something was off- his Jeep was gone. “…Dad?”  
  
The sheriff took off before Stiles even had his door shut. “Stiles, what did I tell you about locking your doors?”  
  
“Shit!”  
  
“Oh, you’d better be scared, kid, because you’re in deep trouble. Luckily, I saw someone taking off with it. I don’t know _how_ they managed to steal it from us in our own driveway, but it happened. I already have some of my boys and girls after the burglar. Meanwhile, me and you are gonna wait at the station.”  
  
“This is really bad.”  
  
“Hells bells, kid. You knew better.”  
  
“I’m really sorry, Dad. Are we gonna get it back?”  
  
“I hope so. I just paid that thing off.”  
  
Stiles sighed. “This can’t be happening. I was having a good day, too.”  
  
“How are you and Derek?”  
  
“What did he tell you?”  
  
“What I already knew. That you two were a thing.”  
  
“We weren’t until tonight- wait, you already knew?”  
  
“Stiles, of course I did. It’s not like you hide your gayness or anything…”  
  
“WHAT THE HELL I DO NOT ACT GAY.”  
  
The sheriff just chuckled, then shook his head. “Just because I am laughing doesn’t mean I am not mad at you. You’re still in deep trouble.”  
  
Stiles groaned and braced himself for the trouble that was to come. He was sure he’d be banned from going to pack meetings for a little while. And that was if his Jeep was even found. He was sure that if it wasn’t, his dad would rip his guts out and make him eat them.  
  
At least he now had Derek, even if he did leave him as soon as trouble with his dad sounded.  
  
He had a feeling if real trouble emerged, he could count on Derek saving his ass.

***

As it turned out, Jared was the one to steal the Jeep. He was brought into the police station, crying to himself. When asked why he did it, all he would mutter out was that Jackson had hurt his feelings last week but he was too scared of him to mess with him, so he settled for Stiles. Which, of course, raised suspensions with people thinking _Stiles_ had bullied Jared.  
  
Stiles didn’t give a fluck, for he had his Jeep back and his dad said he wouldn’t be grounded as a “coming out” gift. Whatever.  
  
But the best part was that the next day after school at the group meeting, Derek kissed him in the privacy of their sanctuary, the dining room. They only stopped when Scott walked in on them.  
  
“Why aren’t you two listening in on the meeting— _oh_. Oh. Sorry… I’ll just leave now. Yeah,” he said awkwardly.  
  
 _That’s right, bud. This time you’re the third wheel that gets ignored_.  
  
Malia hadn’t even passed him a second glance since their breakup. He felt only a tiny bit guilty for moving on so fast, but he hardly felt that they had much, anyway. Besides, he heard from a little birdy that she had moved on, too. He was cool with it, so he presumed it was only fair that she would be, too.  
  
The sheriff, of course, completely supported his new “self-discoveries,” as he called it, despite Stiles complaining that that sounded way too sexual and creepy. But the sheriff had just smiled gently, saying he was proud of his son’s taste in men, for “Derek is a looker.” According to his dad, they’d have cute babies. If, of course, they could have babies.  
  
Lydia was nothing but excited for the new “couple,” though she kept her excitement suppressed since Stiles hadn’t exactly thrown his sexuality at everyone. Though apparently it was pretty obvious without his telling. She did make him a card that read, “I’m Bisexual! Yay!” which he had just rolled his eyes at. Really? That’s all she could think of? But it was the thought that counted, and soon they were both laughing.  
  
Now, Stiles smiled into their kiss, so happy that everything had worked out oh-so-perfectly.

***

Derek held Stiles in his arms while the younger boy napped on the couch. He tried not to obnoxiously sniff him, but he could only subdue his needs to a certain extent. They kid was delicious smelling; he asked for it when he decided to _smother himself in autumn smells_. He didn’t know how it was possible to always give off the scent of wind blowing itself through dead, willowy grass, of fallen leaves freshly changed in color, of crisp apples and rotund pumpkins. He wanted it all to himself.  
  
Derek was always so distracted by the aroma. The other day, while eating a canned fruit mix, he swallowed _pineapple_ without even realizing it. The very smell he despised so greatly. But it hardly bothered him, for he just drained out the smell and taste with Stiles’ lips. Those always fixed things for him.  
  
He wanted to talk to the kid, so he shook him awake on his lap.  
  
“What?” he murmured, annoyed and still half asleep.  
  
“I want to talk to you,” he said innocently.  
  
“Can’t it wait? I’m sleepy, and you’re so _warm_.” He snuggled closer to Derek, burying his face in his neck.  
  
“I just wanted to say… well…” Suddenly feeling stupid, Derek shut himself up before he could humiliate himself.  
  
Stiles made some sort of whining noise. “Say _what_ , Derek? You already freaking woke me up, so just say it…”  
  
Derek could tell he was slowly drifting off again, so he knew if he was going to say something, it’d have to be now. Sighing, he whispered, “You smell so amazingly perfect, Stiles.”  
  
Stiles eyes shot open, and he blinked at his man. Then he rolled his eyes and groggily slapped him across the face.  
  
“Ouch! What was that for?”  
  
“You woke me up to tell me _I smell good_? You’ve only told me two-thousand-and-one times, Wolfman. Tell me something I don’t already know.”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Derek blurted it out without thinking, really. They’d only been “dating,” as people called it, for three months now. He wasn’t really sure when the right time to say it was. A quick Google search had said “whenever the time is right.” What help that was.  
  
But he found that he truly meant those three small words. He would do anything to protect this boy whose smell was all his. He knew people said he was overprotective and that if it was anyone else, it would be considered stalkerish. But he was part wolf- he had a sort of legitimate excuse.  
  
The room was silent for a very long time, which scared Derek more than he’d ever admit. He desperately wanted Stiles’ approval; he wanted the love to be a mutual thing. _You can’t force somebody to love you, Derek_ , he reminded himself almost sullenly. _All things must come naturally_.  
  
“Oh,” Stiles finally breathed out.  
  
Oh. _Oh_? That’s all he could say? _Oh_.  
  
Derek tried to get up, to untangle himself from Stiles, but the boy wouldn’t let him. He noticed Stiles was a little stronger than before, despite only going to the gym twice since he bought his membership nearly two months ago.  
  
“Don’t leave, Derek,” begged Stiles. “…Especially since this is your house. Let’s talk about this. Do you love _me_ , or do you love… _smelling_ me?”  
  
Derek rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t Stiles just take it and either accept it or reject it? Why did things have to always get complicated? “Forget I said it.”  
  
“Stop being a baby, Derek. I was just asking.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to make me feel all bad and weird about it.”  
  
“Aw, did I embarrass the lil Sourwolf?” Stiles reached up and squeezed his cheek meat.  
  
“Stop! Just shut up and leave it alone.”  
  
“You’re embarrassed… Derek Hale, the big, bad wolf… Embarrassed…”  
  
“Go back to sleep unless you want me to knock you out.”  
  
“What, so you can obsessively sniff me again?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“You need to expand your vocabulary. ‘Oh’ is not a very expressive word.”  
  
“Oh, it isn’t?”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“Oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh—”  
  
“I am going to bite your face off.”  
  
“…Oh.”  
  
Derek rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but to smirk. Against his will, he found Stiles to be so adorable.  
  
“Hey,” Stiles muttered, suddenly serious. “You know how you said you loved me earlier?”  
  
“Yeah…?”  
  
“Well... I kinda maybe might love you too.”  
  
It hit Derek right in the chest, in the heart, and he smiled softly at the already beaming Stiles.  
  
But just to be the dick he was, he only responded with, “Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok... so... how to end this thing... First off, if you made it to the fourth chapter without gagging, thanks for reading! If not, I didn't want you to read anyway, so ha. JOKE'S ON YOU :$ Anyway, sorry if this fanfic left you disappointed- it was written for my sister and really only to make her laugh. While I do like Sterek, I am not a huge Teen Wolf fan, so please excuse the extreme out-of-characterness. So yup. Once again, thanks so much for reading this; it means a lot to me!


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